


you are forever responsible for what you tame

by Torchicpox



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fluff, M/M, POV Karkat Vantas, POV Second Person, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:09:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28895628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torchicpox/pseuds/Torchicpox
Summary: Gamzee doesn't need a moirail (ha, as if). Karkat's somehow convinced himself he's Gamzee's moirail. Gamzee finds it too tiring to argue.
Relationships: Gamzee Makara/Karkat Vantas
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	you are forever responsible for what you tame

Everyone knows that putting spit on something means claiming it.

_Everyone_. Everyone but Gamzee Makara.

It's not that you expect better from him. Just that you're faintly amazed. And strongly miffed by his flippant dismissal.

"Why?" He says, upside down and more words, he'd start slurring.

You find that mildly distasteful. And dangerously endearing.

"Because," you try for patient, but instead comes off as irritated. "I'm yours now."

The highblood blinks. A slow flutter of his eyelids.

He starts counting off his fingers, glazed irises obtaining an even glassier look as he looks up to the ceiling.

"I don't remember buying a slave," he finally concludes, surprisingly coherent for a troll with half of his pan up in the incisphere.

You sneer. How typical of highbloods to immediately jump to the most demeaning of assumptions. How cliché that the one troll who became your moirail is one of those stuck up snobs. It's almost like that plot in one of those your stupid romcoms.

_Like your stupid romcoms._

You flush, aware that reality's a harsh, cruel being with sharp teeth that would swallow you up faster than it would coddle you, but still find yourself wanting, desiring, for that sort of love.

"Well, fucking like it or not, we're pale, Makara."

You hope it comes out irritated and dismissive, and doesn't show how fluttery the implication of having someone to be pale for is for you.

"Pale…" the gigantic ass repeats after you, and if he wasn't your moirail, you'd find that repetition anger inducing. "You pale for me, bro?"

Having that question asked at you throws you for a loop. So straightforward, right to the heart of the matter, this Gamzee Makara, _your Gamzee._

"Of fucking course I am," the words are angry, but by the tone you say it, you might as well be professing your undying love. So softly, like a precious thing, you let your tongue shape the name of your moirail, your pale mate. "Gamzee."

With a surge of energy you didn't expect out of the lethargic asshole, he leaps to his feet, and in a single stride, proceeds to hold your whole face in one palm _(which is freaking huge)._

"Motherfucking miracles," Gamzee wheezes, sopor tinted eyes blinking lucidly for perhaps the first time in your whole conversation. "My palebro."

Then, before you could begin to process the whole thing, leans down, close enough you could see rows of rows of incisors which apex predators that are highbloods seem to possess in spades.

You don't have the time to panic, to comprehend whether he's about to kiss you or rip you to utter shreds. Because before he could do either of those things, he passes out right on top of you.

**Author's Note:**

> wait up for the next installment of ownership by way of spit and awkward troll kids understanding the meaning of pale romance


End file.
